


anchor up to me, love

by anemicaxolotl



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Boy Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, but are definitely implied so uh warning for that i guess, but there's one description of more suggestive acts that don't happen on the page, this is mostly just about boys kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemicaxolotl/pseuds/anemicaxolotl
Summary: 5 times Troy and Abed kissed, and 1 time they didn't.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 27
Kudos: 126





	anchor up to me, love

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a gratuitous "5 times they did and 1 time they didn't" fic because I wanted to write about some of my favorite scenes from the show and thought they'd all be better if they had more kissing. (Disclaimer: Troy and Abed have kissed a lot more than the 5 times depicted here.)
> 
> Title is from the song Anchor by Novo Amor.

**i.**

It first happens when they’re filming their _Kickpuncher_ homage, which is a weird sentence even detached from the weirdness that follows it. He’d been the one to reluctantly set the stage for this moment – “Let’s go film the sex scene” – but now Troy finds himself anything but reluctant. As Abed backs himself against his bedroom door, pulling Troy’s body against his own, Troy has to remind himself that he shouldn’t be liking this, shouldn’t enjoy the slim muscles of Abed’s arms as they wrap around his back, or the softness of the lips pressing delicately against his own. A steady refrain of _wrong, wrong, wrong_ cycles through his head as he presses closer and closer to Abed before jumping away without warning, as if he’d been shocked.

“Um,” Troy says. Very articulate. He tries again. “Um. Maybe we should…pause for a second. And, uh. Re-block the scene?”

“I think the blocking’s fine,” Abed says, tilting his head curiously.

“Right.” Troy can’t look at his friend right now. “The thing is, uh…I think I need a minute to process why I’m liking this way more than I probably should.”

“Oh. Right.” Abed blinks, and for once, he’s speechless. “Yeah. Uh. Okay. Uh.”

“Do you need a minute, too?”

Abed moves to sit on the couch, unable to meet Troy’s eyes. “I didn’t think you’d have your sexuality crisis for another couple of seasons. I wasn’t ready for this.”

“My _what?”_

“I was ready for at least another year of unrequited pining before you even considered the possibility of being interested in men at all, let alone me…” Abed’s talking to himself at this point, Troy long forgotten. “I should’ve factored in the kiss scene. That was bound to act as a catalyst. That was so stupid of me.”

Troy waves a hand in front of Abed’s face. “Do you mind telling me what’s going on in my brain, if you already have it all figured out?”

Glancing up at Troy, Abed sighs, his fisted hands coming to rest against his knees. “I like you, Troy. A lot. And I know that throws a wrench into the bromance we’re supposed to have going for us, but I can’t help it. But I know you grew up thinking you were straight, so I didn’t expect to ever have to confess these feelings – at least not for a while. I figured you’d have some crisis of sexuality in a few years, maybe getting a crush on Jeff or falling for some guy you meet in Prague or Barcelona–”

“I get to go to Prague and Barcelona?”

“Not for a few more seasons,” Abed says quickly, giving Troy a stern look at the interruption. “But that’s not important. I thought I’d be pining in secret for a really long time, but I didn’t factor in the fact that a scripted kiss scene could trigger your crisis early. I don’t think we’re ready for a conversation like this so soon in our friendship. We don’t want to plateau our story arc, or rush the exposition.”

“Okay,” Troy says slowly, moving to sit beside Abed on the couch. He tries not to think about the way the words _I like you, Troy_ are swirling through his brain like boats caught in a rip current. “We don’t need to talk about anything yet. I’m not even sure this is a real sexuality crisis. This might just be a…a kissing crisis. I haven’t really been seeing anyone lately and it’s been a while since I’ve kissed someone, so…”

“So this is just…a natural reaction to a sudden expulsion of pent-up desire?” Abed suggests. “Maybe it has nothing to do with me being a guy. Maybe it would’ve happened with anyone you kissed.”

“Maybe it’s the wig,” Troy offers with a grin and an eyebrow wiggle, and Abed snorts before pulling the wig off entirely. Shooting the kiss scene clearly isn’t going to happen today.

“I guess we can get changed now, but try not to mess up your armor. We’ll use that next time we film – if you’re still comfortable trying the kiss scene again someday,” Abed adds, almost shyly.

Troy nods, but he grabs Abed’s arm when the other boy moves to stand up. “Do you think – I mean, cameras off, no filming – do you think we could, uh…practice a little?” He swallows and quickly adds, “Just so I’m more, uh, prepared for next time and don’t freak out again.”

Abed starts to nod and then pauses. “Just for clarification, you mean practice kissing, right?”

“Yeah.” Troy nods again, quickly this time. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

Abed smiles and gently removes Troy’s Kickpuncher faceplate before leaning in. This kiss is a little firmer than their earlier on-screen efforts, a little more insistent, but even sweeter than before. Troy sighs into it and reaches up to rest his hands on Abed’s shoulders.

“If this is weird for you, you can tell me to stop,” he breathes before leaning back in.

Abed simply hums against Troy’s lips and lifts a hand to tug his friend closer by the T-shirt. “I’m okay with weird.”

**ii.**

For a while there’s no room for thoughts in Troy’s mind – just the steady pounding of Abed’s feet on the sidewalk and his own echoing footfalls. They dodge well-dressed pedestrians and zealous drivers as they cross busy intersections between green lights, aiming to put as much distance as possible between them and the restaurant from which they had just fled.

They run for what feels like miles, Troy’s lungs burning in the cold air, before Abed grabs Troy’s arm and pulls him into a courtyard between two buildings. Leaning against a wall and gulping air like water, Troy watches Abed put his hands on his knees and, for once, struggle to catch his own breath. After a moment, he glances up at Troy, and the two slowly break into giggles that erupt into fits of full-bodied laughter.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Troy wheezes, putting an arm around Abed for balance.

“A dine-and-dash scenario was never on my list of desired reenactments,” Abed says between chuckles, “but I have to admit that was exhilarating. Also we can never come back to this part of the city ever again.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Troy agrees. “I can’t even afford the jail on this side of town.”

Abed nods. In the small space between them, their huffed breaths form clouds in the sharp night air, mingling before dissipating into the glow of the streetlight overhead. Troy thinks he should probably take his arm back now, but it feels good resting over Abed’s shoulder, and part of him knows his always-cold friend probably likes its weighted warmth.

Instead of pulling away, he shuffles closer to Abed, who watches him with those dark, unreadable eyes before speaking. “Thanks, by the way. I mean, you didn’t exactly treat me to dinner, but this was still the best way I could’ve spent my birthday.”

“There’s no way this was better than a _Pulp Fiction_ party,” Troy shoots back, but he feels his face grow warmer under the glow of Abed’s words.

He smiles when Abed backpedals, because he knew he would. “Okay, fine, the _Pulp Fiction_ party was undoubtedly the coolest birthday surprise I’ll ever get. But I’m glad we go to do this part, too. I like when it’s just you and me. I really like being with you, Troy.”

Now Troy knows he’s blushing, and he finally drops his arm and takes a step away from Abed. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be close to him, and it’s not like his words aren’t thrilling to Troy – because he does, and they are. It’s just that Abed can be _so much_ sometimes, without even meaning to be, can totally overwhelm Troy with heart-stopping sentiments he drops like they’re nothing.

Other people’s emotions might be foreign to Abed, but he gives his words so freely that Troy finds himself stumbling sometimes to understand whether he should take these things at face value, or if he’s missing a deeper layer of meaning somewhere.

“Yeah, buddy,” he finally says when the silence has stretched between them for just a beat too long. “I like being with you, too.”

Luckily, he doesn’t have to flounder for too long in this space between intention and impact. For all their failed efforts at learning telepathy, Abed really does seem able to read his mind sometimes. Like now, for instance, as he smiles lightly and takes a step into Troy’s personal space. Troy tries to move back to accommodate the change in distance and finds himself, quite literally, with his back against the wall.

Abed’s not doing Don Draper, his pretty sure, but there’s an almost teasing glint in his eyes as he moves even closer Troy and speaks softly. “Do you think it’s bad etiquette to call this a date if neither of us paid for the other?”

 _Oh._ Troy wasn’t expecting this tonight, but he wasn’t necessarily _not_ expecting it, either. There have been signs. For over a year now, ever since the _Kickpuncher_ kiss, he and Abed have been dancing just outside of each other’s circles, close enough to hear the same music but too far way to match the tempo. Or something. Troy’s struggling to set his metaphor straight with Abed so close to him, with his eyes so bright and his smile so patient. Like he’s okay with Troy needing a minute to catch up to whatever’s going on right now.

And it’s occurring to him that Abed’s actually waiting for an answer, that he’s giving Troy a huge say in whatever’s going on right now, and he should probably say something soon.

“It can be a date if you want it to be,” he finally breathes out, and the way Abed’s smile grows is _so_ worth the fear it takes for Troy to force out his next sentence: “I know that’s what I want.”

He takes in the grin that spreads across Abed’s face then, the sheer unadulterated _joy_ blooming there, and thinks he could probably spend his whole life figuring out what else he needs to say to make Abed look like that again, because, wow. In spite of the chill in the air, Troy feels warm all over.

Even more so when Abed brushes his hands against Troy’s waist and says, “Since we’re definitely never coming back to this side of town ever again, how do you feel about some minor public displays of affection before we leave?”

Troy feels himself nodding, embarrassingly fast, as he wraps his arms around Abed’s neck to the tune of Abed’s laugh. He leans in to Troy with his eyes closed and kisses him against the wall in a way that feels like a movie scene, maybe from one of those Meg Ryan ones they just binged last week. Troy sees it all as if from above: two best friends, breathless and a little scared and so, so happy, clinging to each other like they can’t imagine space existing outside of where they stand. Eventually, Troy murmurs a quiet _Happy birthday_ without bothering to pull away from the kiss, and Abed laughs against his lips, and Troy’s going to have to figure out sign language if he ever wants to talk to anybody ever again, because there is no way he is ever tearing his mouth away from where it is right now.

That is, until they hear police sirens blaring in the not-so-distant distance, and while it seems impossible to think the restaurant _actually called the cops on them,_ they figure, well, better safe than sorry, and once again they take off running.

**iii.**

They’re all moved in.

Well, kind of. Technically all of their belongings have been moved into apartment 303, and they’ve done some of the more important moving-in tasks, like filling up the bathtub to make sure it doesn’t fall through the floor like in _The Money Pit_. But beyond that, nearly everything is still boxed up or shoved in a backpack or duffel bag and left unceremoniously on the floor. There are two twin beds that have not yet been assembled into bunk beds, mattresses that are not yet fitted with sheets and pillows, and other items absolutely essential for a first night in a new place that are not yet where they need to be.

None of that matters as much as the feel of Abed’s skin under Troy’s hands as he grabs his boyfriend’s face. “We just _moved in together,”_ he says in that breathless, wonderstruck way of his that makes Abed’s heart flutter. “We’re _living together,_ Abed, we did it!”

“We’re roommates,” Abed agrees with a grin, pulling Troy close by the shirt. “I mean obviously we’re more than that, but – this is just another layer of awesome on the already awesome Trobed cake.”

“Trobed?” Troy’s grin, if possible, gets even wider. “Is that what we’re calling it? Is this Chez Trobed?”

“I think it is,” Abed says, his eyes lighting up with glee as he steps even closer to Troy, backing him up until he’s pressed up against the door of their apartment. And _oh –_ there it is. _Their_ apartment. He feels almost giddy.

“We’re going to have to tell the others soon,” he says nervously as Abed’s eyes race over his face, down to his lips and finally back up to his eyes. “If we’re living together now – I mean, we’re getting kind of serious, right? It’s going to be pretty obvious.”

“Right,” he says, but his eyes keep dropping back to Troy’s lips and it’s clear he’s only half listening. “We – next time we see them. We’ll tell them we’re living together and that we’re dating and that it’s awesome.”

He kisses Troy then, because he can’t help it, licks into his boyfriend’s mouth and drags his teeth over his lips until Troy whimpers.

“This isn’t too fast, right?” he whispers when Abed pulls back to press hot kisses down the side of his neck. “Like – moving in together so soon after starting to date. That’s not jumping the shark anymore?”

“Waiting to move in together was just to make sure our friendship could handle it,” Abed reminds him, his breath hot against Troy’s ear as his kisses travel upward. “And it can. We established that. The only thing different now that we’re dating is that we get to do _this_ –” He punctuates his words with a gentle nip to Troy’s neck – “any time we want with privacy and no interruptions. All day, every single day, in any room we want.”

“Whoa.” Troy pushes Abed back for a minute so he can stare at his friend. “You’re totally right. We can do this _all the time._ You’re a genius.”

Abed grins before stealing another kiss from Troy, whose hands snake under Abed’s shirt and press against the firm muscles of his stomach.

“So…where to first?” he mumbles against Abed’s lips. “The currently debunked bunk beds?”

“I was thinking we could save that for later,” Abed says quickly, “and christen some of the more unexpected rooms first. Want to start in the kitchen?”

Troy groans. “God, I love you,” he murmurs, before his brain can catch up to his mouth.

Abed pulls back in shock. “What did you say?”

“Uh…” Troy’s eyes feel huge in his head, and he can’t seem to bring them back to normal. “I said…I luhhhh…ve you. _Dang_ it, it’s so hard to think of another word!”

The grin Abed’s wearing seems to say he doesn’t care. “You love me?”

“Well, duh- _doy_ , you’re like my favorite person in the world, and you were even before we started dating and I found out you’re the best kisser on the planet. You’re too awesome for words, man, of course I love you.”

Abed grasps Troy’s face in his hands and presses him into the door once more, pressing their lips together in a desperate, heady kiss. It’s slower now, but even more intense, sending a message Troy can’t really decipher but loves anyway. He groans again and puts his hands on Abed’s back, holding him tight to his chest.

Pulling back to look Troy square in the eyes, Abed says, very carefully and seriously, “I love you, too.” He smiles when Troy smiles, and then he says it again, this time with a kiss. “I love you, Troy.” Another kiss, this time to Troy’s cheek. “I love you.” A kiss to his neck. “I love you.”

His kisses move lower and lower until he’s dropping to his knees right in front of Troy, who lets out a mortifying squeak. “Uh, I thought we were taking this to the kitchen,” he says quickly, his hands coming up to comb through Abed’s soft hair.

“I changed my mind. We’re starting right here in the hallway.”

His fingers dance against the waistband of Troy’s jeans, and as he undoes the button, Troy’s head tips back against the door to _their apartment_ and he thinks, yeah, he’s definitely in love with a genius – and that genius is in love with him, too. 

**iv.**

Troy watches in silence as Abed rips the polygraph’s wires off his fingers and knocks his chair back from the table, head down and eyes on the floor as he strides toward the exit. Abed never truly storms from a room or leaves in a huff unless he’s doing a character bit, but this abrupt departure is real, and Troy fears he might’ve broken something irreparable in his boyfriend. He’s all skinny limbs and hunched shoulders as he shoves through the door, the ends of his flannel fluttering out behind him.

Inexplicably, as Abed’s gangly frame vanishes down the hall, Troy hears Judy Garland in his head, a tearful confession – _I think I’ll miss you most of all._

He can feel eyes on him from all sides of the table. Britta sniffles before asking quietly, “You’re not really going to go, are you?”

“You _can’t,”_ Annie begs across from her. “Troy, you really don’t have to–”

“Can you guys leave the kid alone for a second and let him think this through?” Jeff snaps. “The only thing he _has to_ do right now is go find his boyfriend.” He turns stern eyes to Troy. “I’m serious. You don’t need to make a decision about this right now, but you need to go find Abed. What are you still doing here?”

“Right, uh, yeah, just…” Troy detangles himself from his own wires and jogs out of the room.

His Abed spidey-senses are working at full blast today, because while there are a dozen places on campus his boyfriend could be, Troy somehow instinctively knows it’s going to be the fountain. Sure enough, he’s there, shoulders still hunched as he contemplates the ripples in the water below.

Abed’s Troy spidey-senses must also be firing on all cylinders today, because he speaks without turning around, as though he can feel Troy’s approach. “I’m trying to decide whether or not to wish for you to stay. On one hand, it would be rude to try and keep you here if you’re set on leaving. On the other hand…”

He flips a penny in the air and catches it in the same hand, repeating the motion a few times before Troy finally catches his elbow. Abed turns to him with dull eyes and doesn’t finish his thought. Troy hears him anyway.

“I want you to listen carefully,” he says, in a voice as strong as he can manage, despite the trembling of his hands. “I need to go on this trip. And I want to say that it has nothing to do with you, but we both know it kind of does.”

Abed’s eyebrows fly up at that, but Troy presses on. “You and I have been inseparable since the moment we became friends, and honestly, I love that about us. I love every second we spend together. But I’m scared that we don’t know how to be apart, and that’s something that might hold us back one day.”

“You think I’m going to hold you back?” Abed untangles himself from Troy’s grip and turns back to the fountain.

“It’s possible. Or maybe I’ll be the one that holds _you_ back. What happens when Martin Scorsese reads your screenplay and tells you to move to Hollywood so he can direct it? Are you going to be able to be apart from me? Or are you going to pass up an opportunity like that because I’m scared to move to a big city and maybe I don’t want to live too far away from Annie and my mom?”

“Scorsese would never take on _Police Justice,_ he already did _The Departed,”_ Abed mutters, but his posture begins to relax.

“I know you know what I’m saying is true.” Troy reaches for Abed again, and this time Abed reaches back, gripping Troy’s hands tightly as he continues to speak. “If it were up to me, I’d spend all my time watching TV and hanging out with you. But that’s not going to help either of us grow up. You gotta admit we’re a little codependent, dude.”

He brings one of Abed’s hands to his lips and kisses it, gently. “This isn’t about me not wanting to be your Constable Reggie anymore. This is about the two of us needing to face the real world together. And we can’t help support each other if we never learn to stand on our own two feet. Does that make sense?”

Abed’s gaze is downward, but he nods stiffly. “You know, technically a hero is supposed to refuse the call to adventure before meeting with the mentor and crossing the first threshold.”

Troy laughs drily. “Trust me, everyone is already trying to get me to refuse it.” He tilts Abed’s chin up so he can look at him seriously when he says, “But if you really don’t think I should go – like, if you _really_ mean it – tell me now. I pled my case, but like, speak now or forever hold your peace if you really think…”

“No,” Abed sighs. “The refusal of the call to adventure is a dumb part of the arc that just prolongs the inevitable and drags the story out. I want to find out who your mentor is going to be, so you should probably just say yes so we can skip to that part.”

Troy laughs and kisses Abed’s hand again. “I love you so much,” he says, and then says it again as he kisses Abed’s cheek, his nose, his other cheek, his forehead, and every part of his face he can reach. Abed snorts, which turns into a full-bodied laugh until the two boys are giggling against each other’s mouths, exchanging slow, warm kisses in the space between breaths and gasps of laughter. It takes a moment after they pull away for Troy to realize his face is wet from tears coming from both their eyes.

“The best part about the hero’s journey,” Abed says quietly, “is that it ends where it begins. So you have to come home, like all the heroes do.”

“Of course I will.” Troy tightens his grip around Abed’s waist. “It’s going to suck so bad to be away from you. Just because I want to go doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss you like hell.”

Abed presses his face to Troy’s shoulder and exhales unsteadily. “Now I know I have a heart,” he says lowly, the quote muffled by fabric and the weight of his own grief, “because it’s breaking.”

**v.**

The carnage in the hallways is impressive. They pick their way through overturned chairs and toppled bookshelves until they reach a clearing where they can walk shoulder-to-shoulder, the back of Abed’s hand brushing against Troy’s. Straggling Greendale students who notice them wave and call friendly goodbyes and well-wishes to Troy, who accepts them all with a smile, but the attention is starting to bug him. He can tell it’s grating on Abed, too, who won’t speak or meet anyone’s eyes.

“Come here,” Troy says lowly, grabbing Abed by the sleeve and pulling him toward an open door. They slip into their Spanish 101 classroom, and after Troy locks the door, they walk together, taking in the disarray of the room and moving to stand where they sat so many years ago.

“It’s cheesy to say this is where it all began, but…”

Abed turns to him, a strange look on his face. “It began in the study room,” he says quietly. “That’s where we all became our Breakfast Club.”

“You know what I mean,” Troy says, and he knows that Abed _does_ know and just needs to hear Troy say it. “This is the room where I met my very best friend. Where he begged me to join a study group and wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when I tried to act like I was too good for all that. This is where I met the love of my life.”

Abed huffs out a laugh as Troy steps closer. “I don’t know if I begged you.”

“I remember some begging.” Troy brushes the back of his hand over Abed’s cheek and takes a deep breath. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For…?”

“For all of it. For giving me the wildest, coolest send-off today. For letting me go even though it’s going to suck for both of us. For agreeing to move in together, but not until you were sure it wouldn’t ruin our friendship. For taking a chance on the dumb jock in your Spanish class. For…” He wants to say something devastatingly cheesy, something that’ll make Abed blush or roll his eyes – anything to get rid of the pained expression he’s wearing now. “For helping me discover my character arc. I never would’ve grown from a one-dimensional trope if you hadn’t shown me it’s okay to be who I really am.”

Smiling slightly, Abed wraps his fingers around Troy’s wrist. “Thanks for showing me what it feels like to be a main character,” he says softly. “I never would have gotten a romantic plot without you.”

Troy feels his face flush. “Nah, you would’ve gotten one with somebody else,” he mumbles.

Abed’s eyes are bright as he replies. “Not one like this.”

Troy can’t help it then; he knows his options are to throw himself at his boyfriend or completely shatter in front of him, so he opts for the former, pulling Abed’s face to his own and capturing his lips in a burning kiss. Abed’s arms come up to wrap around Troy’s back, pulling him flush against his chest, where Troy almost swears he can feel their hearts beating against each other, keeping perfect time.

This is really it now, he thinks as Abed backs him against a set of cabinets and kisses him like the world is ending. This is their goodbye, their _Here’s looking at you, kid,_ their _We’ll always have Paris._ They’ll always have this dingy community college Spanish classroom. He thinks of the time Abed showed him _Casablanca_ and knows that he’d understand it if Troy said to him now _Where I’m going, you can’t follow,_ but this is really nothing like _Casablanca,_ if Troy remembers correctly _._ And yet nothing else seems to fit the enormity of what this moment means to them.

For just a second, he thinks about reaching one finger out to touch Abed’s forehead and whispering _I’ll be right here,_ except his finger wouldn’t glow like E.T.’s and he’d probably have to break the kiss to do that, and there’s really no reason to justify that right now, so he just grabs Abed’s collar so he can pull him even closer and tries to banish the thought of goodbyes, if only for a few more moments.

Abed’s arms tighten around Troy’s waist as he nips at his lower lip. Troy swallows a moan, knowing their time is limited and not wanting to let this get too heated. He doesn’t want to start something they can’t finish, but it’s cruel and impossible to think of hitting pause on this moment when his senses are absolutely swimming in _Abed,_ the feel of his hands and his lips and his body pressed entirely against Troy’s.

When Abed finally pulls away, it’s only to move his lips down to Troy’s neck, placing careful kisses in all the spots that make him melt. He’s slowing down, though, his movements losing some of the heat and intensity from before in favor of something more gentle, light as a whisper brushing over his skin. Eventually he stops, whispering Troy’s name with his lips still pressed to his neck.

“What is it?” Troy asks quietly.

He feels Abed’s hands tighten against his hips. “I don’t know,” he whispers back, burying his face deeper into Troy’s shoulder. He takes a ragged breath in and releases it shakily.

“I know, buddy,” Troy breathes, turning to place a kiss just under Abed’s ear. He can hear the words trapped just past Abed’s lips – something that sounds a lot like _please don’t go_ – and knows he’ll never say them out loud. Troy appreciates it: one word from Abed and he’d stay for good, but they both know that’s not what needs to happen.

“We should probably head outside,” Abed says regretfully, hooking his chin over Troy’s shoulder with a sigh. “If you don’t leave now, I might never let you go.”

Troy smiles and moves to press a kiss against Abed’s lips, sweet and soft. “You go ahead. I have one more thing to do first – you know, narrative closure and all that.” Abed smiles proudly at that, and Troy can’t help but grin.

As he moves toward the door, Abed catches his sleeve and pulls him back. “Hey,” he says softly, before catching him in one last kiss. “I love you. And I’m really going to miss that.”

“I love you too. And this is just a hiatus, remember?” Troy plays with Abed’s collar to keep from falling back into his arms. “Not a finale. Just a mid-season break. We’ll be back on air before you know it.”

Abed’s eyes gleam as he nods and leans in to press a final kiss to Troy’s forehead. “Then let’s not keep the audience waiting.”

**\+ i.**

When Troy walks out onto the steps and sees his study group – his best friends – waiting to bid him farewell, he almost loses his nerve. But this trip is meant to show him he can do the things he’s scared of, and he can do them alone, if he has to. And he might hate that part of it, but he thinks it’ll be good for him and Abed, when all is said and done.

They don’t kiss again. They don’t need to do it in front of all their friends, and besides, at this point there’s nothing left unsaid between them. He simply offers Abed a clone hug, and pulls him into his arms.

They’ve gone from total strangers to buddies to best friends to boyfriends, checking off “true loves” and “soul mates” somewhere along the way, and that’s a lot to wrap into one final embrace. Troy worries he might not be able to let go, but somehow he and Abed move together to break apart in one final moment of synchronization. They lock eyes, but they don’t kiss.

They don’t need to. The look Abed gives him as Troy pulls away from Greendale says more than any kiss ever could. His eyes are pained and gentle, but his head is tilted in a familiar Abed way, like he’s not so much concerned as he is curious. Like he knows everything will work out in the end and now all he has to do is wait and see how. 

Troy thinks about what Abed said about the hero’s journey, how it ends where it begins, and he starts to plan for the day he can come home to Abed again.

**Author's Note:**

> You can tell I wrote this out of order and not all in one go because in some of the sections I was leaning very heavily on movie references and then in other sections I forgot about that motif entirely. Bonus points if you can guess which section I wrote while red wine drunk. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm on tumblr @ slutabed probably crying about all the songs that remind me of Trobed.


End file.
